My Own Blindness
by Dracis Tran
Summary: I want to forget, but no matter what I try, I can't do it. Not today. Vice one-shot Pre-StrikerS.


Essentially, I can't see. In front of me is a glass, partially filled with a liquid that has a golden tint to it, but is mostly brown. Behind it is some wishy-washy brown. Same as under it. I smell smoke. And beer, but that should be obvious. Even if I were to turn my head, it's not like the sense that my eyes were giving me would change much.

I grab the glass and take another swig, but even as much as I've managed to knock my senses down, I can't forget. It's been a year and I can't forget. I never could, but sometimes I like to entertain the thought of possibly forgetting as time moves on and on. But it seems that time likes to move on without me or anyone else. I probably could have told you that a long time ago, but it seems to hit home anew every day.

I spend all my time here, now.

When I had entered the bar, it had been fairly empty, as it was fairly early in the day. I have the day off, as I had requested, but I still have to report at oh-dark-thirty tomorrow morning. So, I started early, and I'll fall asleep early, and be sober, hopefully, in time for my report. As much as I don't want to feel anything, particularly today, I certainly don't want to be even more of a failure than I already am. As impressive a feat as that might be.

I manage to look down; a black blur greets me. I mumble. "Time?"

"**Fourteen twenty-two,**" my partner responds. So I have lots more time before I have to down a glass of water, get more food in me and get out. I hope I sleep well tonight.

"Hey there, handsome." A woman is nearby, though I did not know this until she spoke. She stinks of smoke and whiskey. Given my appearance, since I'm off duty, I honestly doubt she's anywhere closer to sober than I am. Still, it's a compliment. "What are you doing in a dank place like this?"

"Forgetting. Or failing that, losing some time." My voice slurs slightly, even to my affected senses. I hope for a moment in vain that she'll think me too drunk and leave me alone again.

"Oh, a lot of people want to forget something, sweetheart," she says. Now I can feel her breath on the back of my neck, which means that if she decided to close her mouth she'd look a lot like a vampire. Not sure why that came to my mind at this moment, though.

"I imagine that's why they built the bar." Without looking, I toast in the bartender's general direction. He probably doesn't like me much, save the rather constant funding of his bank account I do. Or maybe he does, if he's the type that can ignore a slob like me sitting at his bar so long as the money and booze keep flowing.

"I can help you forget, handsome," she says, having now placed a hand around my waist.

"Maybe you could, but I'm not interested." Maybe I would have been, another time. Maybe I would be, tomorrow. I don't know. But certainly not today. Today's the day that I don't think I could do anything that could be conceived as for myself. I owed her that much.

There's a pause, and I take the opportunity to take a drink. I drain the glass, as it is about time to get a refill. I clank it on the bar after emptying it, and I push it forward slightly. "Another one." I'm probably talking far too loudly, but that's better than too quietly right now.

The bartender's suddenly in my field of vision, but that just means that there's some pink in the vague oval shape that makes up faces when I'm like this. "The same again? That'll be your seventh."

"Also something to eat. Some nuts, maybe?"

"You're going longer than I remember you going before, kid." I guess I should let him get away with that, though he doesn't… didn't… whatever… he isn't all that much older than I am, best I've been able to tell. "Got something on your mind?"

"Something I'd like to get off, sure."

He grunts. "Fine, then. You leavin' soon?"

"Ina few hours. Wanna get lots of sleep."

He grunts again, and I hear the clank of a glass being set in front of me, followed by the similar sound of a bowl with small objects in it. "Don't hurt yourself, kid." And then he's out of my vision again, probably off to sell something else to someone else. He's gone long before I can even open my mouth to protest such a statement.

Damn.

I reach out to nurse this glass similar to the way I'd nursed the previous one, though I miss on the first try to grab it. I hear a chuckle from behind me, and it seems that the woman had merely watched the exchange that had gone on before her. "You're funny." What a useless thing to say.

"I can be." Equally useless, but I feel superior for a moment. I do wish she'd leave me alone.

"I like a funny man." She apparently doesn't give up easily. Reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago.

"You should go find one, then." As if that wasn't clear enough. But she's already given rather impressive proof of her inability to listen to me. I try not to move anything other than what's absolutely necessary to get more of the beer in me. Maybe I should sleep early and get my water now.

"But I have, he's just being obstinate." Big word for a drunkard, not that I have room to talk here. "Why don't you come with me to my place? I can make it worth your while."

I sigh, even though I try not to. Too late to be polite now. "No. Leave me alone." Then I think better of it, though it's even more too late. "Please." Maybe some other time, even. Just… not now. Not today.

She huffs, and then she walks away. I don't even bother to look; it's not like I'd be able to see her if I tried, anyway. At least, not clearly enough to determine whether I should be regretting this decision. I don't, really. I don't think I would, even if she looked fantastic. Not today. Maybe tomorrow… well, next time I'm on leave on Mid.

If I ever see her again, that is. But my mind jumps away as soon as she's out the door. I don't want to think anymore.

I've eaten most of the nuts, so I finish them off. I'm only about halfway through on the beer, though. I feel uncomfortable, so I shift in my seat a little bit. It doesn't help. A swig of beer. That doesn't either. I sigh. It's not like I wanted today to be a good day. Really, I just want it _over_. My wishes, particularly of late, have a habit of not coming true.

"Time."

"**Fourteen-thirty.**" Dammit. Another swig of beer.

I try not to, but I feel my mind slide over to the precise subject that I don't want to think about. I see her face for a moment crystal clear in my mind's eye, but I'm able to replace it with my superior officer's face during the debriefing. Then I manage to get my mind on my duties as of yesterday, which is a much safer subject, even if I was getting some strange looks from other people in the company. It's not like it matters what they think, anyway.

I'm out of beer again. "Sir, one more if you please."

"And if I don't?" the bartender says. I hear him walking closer. I wonder why my eyes are so bad right now but my ears seem just shy of normal.

"I have the money. You know that."

There's a pause, the wishy-washy brown figure seems to remain perfectly still until "I'm shutting you off. This is your last one."

"Aw, come on!" It's only seven… no, eight beers. I've done worse with friends.

"In my bar, no less," he says, making me realize I said some of that aloud. "But the point is that you're alone today, and it's about time you headed home and started sobering up, unless you ain't got somewhere to be in the morning. And I know you do, if you're out here drinking this early."

I grunt.

"Last one." I hear the new glass clank onto the table, and I feel the glass in my hand taken away with a gentle, but firm and deft touch. "Then a mug of water and out with you. Have something to eat before you pass out, too."

"More nuts?"

He made a noise. I figured it meant 'no'. "I'll get you a burger."

Hey, that sounded alright. I could handle a burger.

Since this was apparently my last drink quite a few hours before I thought I was going to be leaving the bar, I took slow sips instead of the long gulps that I'd been taking of the previous mugs. It's not like I had much of the taste registering with me; just enough to know that he'd downgraded this one, too. Well, as long as he didn't charge me… but that's why I'm here, isn't it? I'm a regular, and Joe always takes care of his customers.

Of course, that's probably why I'm headed home soon, too.

I'm only a few sips into the beer and I hear the arrival of the plate. A burger and fries, with ketchup, all for me. Wonderful. I set the beer down and start popping fries in. It's alright food; it's not like you ever go to the bar because the food's divine, after all, but it's better than some. Filling, certainly. I'm really starting to feel full, so I slow down on the speed of both the sips and the fries. I take a bite of the burger. It tastes salty.

"Hey, Joe."

The bartender comes back. "You need something else, Vice?"

I grunt. At least he didn't remind me of my last name… but I manage to push the thought out of my mind. "You putting extra salt on your burgers now?"

A short pause again. A tissue comes into plain view in front of me, then he's wiping at my eyes. I barely knew what he was doing, but suddenly I could see his face. He tosses the tissue into the trashcan that's behind him.

Well, that certainly explains why my cheeks are wet.

I forgot about my burger. Joe just let me cry until I fell asleep.


End file.
